


A Past Life Bleeding Through

by idiom



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossover, M/M, No Sex, Past Lives, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25533676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiom/pseuds/idiom
Summary: Nicky discovers something unfathomable about his ancestors and Joe’s after being kidnapped by Abstergo Industries and forced to explore ancient memories of the Crusades.Could the Bleeding Effect of the past on his mind break him or will the team discover a cure before it’s too late?
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 63
Kudos: 232





	1. THE ANIMUS

**Author's Note:**

> I mean… I said it before and I’ll say it again… this crossover had to be done… The Old Guard team, especially Nicky and Joe, fit the AC Universe perfectly. 
> 
> If you haven’t played Assassin’s Creed, don’t worry. All you need to know for this fic is that there is a type of machine called an Animus that allows people to live through their ancestors' memories and there are two groups: Assassins (“the good guys”) who are fighting to keep their ancestors’ secrets safe and Templars (AKA Abstergo AKA the bad guys™) who are fighting to uncover those secrets.
> 
> TLDNR: Assassin’s Creed AU. Ancestors’ memories. No one is immortal.

Niccolò blinked as the world flickered around him. Pieces fell away and blurred before coming back sharper than ever. Corners of the room were blocked in darkness, like a night sky studded with strangely flickering stars.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Niccolò shook his head.

 _Seeing things again,_ he thought to himself. After many hard fought battles, it was no surprise his mind was no longer fully his to control. He’d seen crusaders come off the fields of war driven insane by the carnage they’d witnessed. He was lucky to still have some sense left in him at all.

Taking in a deep breath, he regained some semblance of his sanity and opened his eyes. 

The banquet hall in the Palace of Jerusalem was filled with men celebrating yet another victory on the field of battle. Tables of crusaders dined side by side, all in white robes bearing the red cross of their lord painted across their chests. They drank and laughed, enjoying the little fun they were allowed in the wake of their latest defeat of their great enemy Saladin’s forces at Montgisard.

The king himself raised a glass to the great and powerful army they had amassed. His right hand man, Merrick, stood near his side, applauding his toast with vigour. 

Niccolò looked on with a calm gaze. He did not like Merrick, none of the Genoese did. Merrick was one of the Franks, a man who served the king closely. He had too much influence for their liking and too much enjoyment for unscrupulous entertainments.

“Now! Now!” Merrick announced at the king’s behest. He clapped his hands, gathering everyone's attention. “We have a gift for our Latin comrades. As we all know, they have been vital to this and many of our victories.” 

Niccolò shifted in his seat. He and his men were all gathered at tables on the left side of the room, watching the night's events unfold without engaging. Their presence was a courtesy.

“Commander of the Knights Templar, Niccolò di Genova,” Merrik said, turning to greet him with excessive politeness. 

Niccolò was forced to recognize him with a nod in return. 

“Your order’s donations to the cause have been a great boon,” Merrik went on. “In thanks, the king would like to present to you Saladin’s greatest warrior.”

There was a loud clang as the banquet hall doors opened. 

Niccolò turned and raised a brow at the sight that met him. 

Four palace guards brought forward a lone man. He was an Saracen soldier, still dressed in his battle garb, though his helm and weapons had been taken. They had clapped him in irons and the chains rattled around his legs and arms as the guards shoved him through into the middle of the hall.

The crusaders booed and hissed as he was brought before them. Some went so far as to throw table scraps, but Merrick was quick to put an end to any hostility that he himself had not initiated.

“Now, now, settle down!” Merrick chuckled. “I’ve been told that this man is called Yusuf Al-Kaysani,” he pronounced the name with a purposeful drawl. “He is one of Saladin’s finest killers. As you can see, he is an utter specimen of his people! Don’t you agree, _signore_ Niccolò.”

“ _Certo._ Indeed,” Niccolò murmured, though he had a terrible feeling rising up within him.

“All sins are forgiven, are they not?” Merrick smirked a revolting smile. “Why not have some fun with him, hm? I do like to see my enemies' great warriors brought low.”

Snapping his fingers, Merrick ushered a servant forward. The youth bowed, handing him a whip. Without breaking eye contact with Niccolò, Merrick snatched up the weapon, letting the thick leather unravel. He struck it through the air with a loud crack as the guards forced their prisoner to his knees and ripped open the back of his shirt.

“Now, let us see this heathen brought low.” Merrick drew his hand back, ready to unleash the first blow.

Niccolò watched gritting his teeth as the prisoner bowed his head and closed his calm black eyes. There was nothing Christian about this sort of public savagery.

“Stop this at once!” Niccolò shouted, slamming a hand down on the table as he stood from his seat. 

“Stop?” Merrick let out a little laugh. “I was only just about to get started.” 

“He is my prize, is he not?” Niccolò snapped. “If so, I would enjoy my dinner in peace and enjoy my gift in private.”

Niccolò looked to the king then and the room fell silent. There was a long pause before the man raised a hand, conceding.

“If it is what our king wishes, of course!” Merrick declared. “He is indeed yours to do with as you please, Commander. I didn't mean to spoil your fun. Without our Genoese allies we never could have won this battle.” 

With that said, Merrick clapped his hands and gestured for the guards to take their captive away. “Bring this prisoner to the Knight Templar’s guest chambers.” He shot a cruel smile Niccolò’s way, but Niccolò only mirrored the expression with a cold smirk of his own.

“ _Grazie mille._ Thank you,” he murmured before turning to sit once more with his men. 

“ _Questa gente sono delle creature spietate._ These people are cruel creatures,” he whispered to the other Genoese as he reached calmly for a fresh loaf of bread. “I see no reason to ruin my dinner with the sight of a heathen’s blood.”

—

When the banquet came to an end, Niccolò made his way back to the chambers that had been provided for him in the palace. As a Commander of the Knights Templar he’d been given access to a private suite. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it was one of the few luxuries to be found in the Holy Land.

He’d been so looking forward to getting back to his rooms, he’d all but completely forgotten about his _prize_ until he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The man, Yusuf, was waiting for him. He sat on the edge of the bed. His hands were no longer bound, but his feet were chained and secured firmly to a metal ring near the bedpost.

The sound of the door closing drew his dark gaze upward. He locked eyes with Niccolò.

His calm stare gave away nothing. There was no emotion at all in his eyes, just a coldness and calculating intensity.

“You are the one who saved me only to have me locked away for your own private games,” Yusuf murmured, speaking the Genoese tongue with surprising fluency. His eyes scanned the room, searching for something. “I see no whips so I must begin to assume the worst.”

Niccolò recoiled, aghast at the very notion. This heathen seemed to be implying that he intended to use him for his pleasure. “I am a priest. You seem to know my tongue than you know that means I am a celibate, god-fearing man of Christ.”

“I know your people and your priests,” Yusuf drawled. “I know that you are capable of the unspeakable, no matter what robes you wear.”

“I am not going to torture you.” Niccolò shook his head. “I am not like that man back there.” He was not like Merrick.

Yusuf huffed out a humourless laugh despite his dire situation. “You crusaders are all the same. Violent and greedy.”

“The followers of my church have hopes to convert rather than conquer the people of this land.” Niccolò shrugged. “I do not wish for violence, however my church has not had much success convincing the locals to lay down their weapons and accept the one true God.”

“Indeed.” Yusuf laughed. “Well, I already worship the one true God. So we should have no qualms with each other.”

“Fine. Then I shall simply shelter you here tonight and in the morning I will send you out the servant’s wing with a new cloak and you can go where you like.”

“You would release me?” Yusuf frowned. “Why?”

With a tired sigh, Niccolò simply rubbed his aching brow. “I told you, I do not wish for violence. I am sick of watching men die needlessly. You are unarmed and at my mercy. I would rather meet you again on the battlefield than see you killed in something as tedious as an execution.”

“If we met on the battlefield, I doubt it would be a fair fight, priest.”

Niccolò crossed his arms over his chest at that. “Perhaps I might surprise you.”

Yusuf only chuckled. Then his expression softened and he tilted his head to one side. “What is your name, priest?” 

Niccolò, taken aback by the question, stuttered over his answer. “Niccolò. Niccolò di Genova.”

“Niccolò di Genova,” the man replied, trying it on his tongue. “I am Yusuf Al-Kaysani.”

“Well,” Niccolò huffed. “I would say it is a pleasure to meet you, but under the circumstances I admit it is not.” He approached the bed. There was a trunk with clothing by Yusuf’s feet, he opened it hastily. “You may rest here until morning. I will find you a cloak.”

Next to him, Yusuf hummed a sad tone. “You do not seem like the others,” he murmured. 

Niccolò frowned. Yusuf sounded strangely closer than before. 

“You are a good man. I am sorry.”

Niccolò turned. “Sorry—?” The word barely got out when a hand wrapped around his neck. 

A hidden blade that had been tucked away in the band of the man’s shirt pierced his throat. He barely saw it before the man flicked his wrist and it disappeared once more.

Niccolò fell, but Yusuf caught him, lowering him to the ground with a delicate touch that one would not expect from their killer.

“A—assassin?” Niccolò choked out through the blood spilling from his throat. His brow arched. He supposed he felt betrayed, but this man was his enemy, he should not have been so surprised.

Yusuf’s dark eyes were the last thing he saw before a hand came over his face and pressed his wide eyes closed.

“ _Requiescat in pace, Niccolò di Genova._ Rest in peace. _”_

—

DESYNCHRONIZED

—

_ANIMUS DATA_

_DNA Tracking_

_Subject XX_

_Session Hours Logged:_ 329

—

“ _Svegliati._ Nicky. Wake up. Please.”

Gentle hands were patting his cheeks, trying to rouse him. Nicky opened his eyes and came face to face with the assassin who’d just ended his life.  
No. Not his life. His ancestor’s.

In a panic, Nicky grabbed the man’s wrists. “What is this? Where am I?”

“Nicky,” the man leaning over him sighed with obvious relief. He easily removed Nicky’s hands from his wrists so he could work at tearing away the electrodes connecting different parts of his body to some monitoring machine overhead. Before long, he was laying surrounded by a tangled mass of white wires.

“It’s July 10th, 20XX,” the man told him. “Two weeks ago, you were kidnapped and placed in an Animus. Have they brought you out of suspension at all since they took you?”

“They? Took me? Who? I don’t know. I don’t...” Nicky trailed off, glancing down to his arm where an IV drip was attached to a vein. Shaking his head, he tried to sit up. 

“I don’t recognize anything.” Not that there was much to recognize. The room they were in was all white walls and frosted glass. Apart from the Animus and the medical equipment around it, there was nothing.

“What is this?” Nicky wondered aloud.

The man who’d woken him from the machine froze for a moment. After taking a deep breath, he shook his head and seemed to remember himself. He came over to help Nicky sit upright. With deft fingers, he removed the needle from Nicky's arm, gently drawing it from his skin. 

He had soft hands. Familiar hands. 

Nicky’s panicked, shuddering breaths evened out as his memories from the past and present gradually reordered themselves in his mind. He sucked in one deep inhale. Taking the man’s hands in his, he whispered, “Joe.”

“Oh, thank god,” Joe all-but sobbed, kissing the hands on his. His features softened into a smile and the tension he was holding in his body seemed to subside. His relief was palpable. “You remember.”

Nicky reached out immediately pulling the man in, kissing him deep. He broke away with a grateful laugh.

“My head feels like soup, but how could I ever forget you,” he whispered between kisses. Recalling the strangeness of the situation, Nicky pulled back. “Joe, where are we?”

“Abstergo Industries HQ in Roma," Joe replied, all but spitting out the company name. "The Templars kidnapped you while we were working at the site in Egypt.” As he went on, Joe started packing up his equipment. “Andy and Booker captured one of their men, Copley, and we convinced him to tell us where they’d taken you.”

“That was awful, I—I have never seen that life.” Nicky pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the world from glitching. “In Egypt I was a roman soldier under Mark Antony and I have always fought for the assassins. I’ve never seen my ancestors during the time of the crusades. I didn’t know… I...” Nicky trailed off as his memories slowly stitched themselves back together. He saw glitches in the corners of his eyes. Joe’s face morphed with the face of the assassin who’d killed his ancestor in the past. “I was a Templar.”

“Yes,” Joe whispered. “I followed you back there. The assassin who killed you, he was my ancestor. We met in that life, but I had to change the narrative to force the desynchronization.”

Nicky shivered. “I remember. If felt… very wrong. I—I mean—He—Niccolò di Genova, he wasn’t supposed to die there.”

Joe nodded. Forcing a desynchronization wasn’t exactly the healthiest way to get someone out of an Animus induced coma, but it had worked and Nicky was okay. That was all that mattered.

“We managed to reprogram their Animus and link it to ours,” Joe said as he moved away from Nicky. He started fiddling with a machine laying on the floor next to the Abstergo equipment. He ended the program he had running and unplugged a few wires before folding the entire apparatus up until it clasped shut like a briefcase.

“What the hell is that?” Nicky asked. It looked like… but it couldn’t possibly be...

“Portable Animus,” Joe said, confirming his suspicions. “Booker got it through one of his old contacts in Egypt. It’s a prototype, but it’s totally safe... apparently.”

“Apparently?” Nicky huffed. His eyes narrowed. “You know I don’t like you playing with these dangerous things, Joe.”

“Well, I don’t like you getting kidnapped,” Joe huffed right back. “Look, we can be upset with each other later, for now we have to—”

A soft static filled the room, cutting him off. “Joe?” a muffled voice piped up from inside a nearby bag. “Joe, can you hear me? Is Nicky alright?”

Nicky blinked. “Is that Andy?”

Joe cursed. Rummaging through the bag, he picked up his radio and pressed a button. “Hey, boss. I’ve got him. He’s okay, just a little out of it after being kept plugged in for so long. We’re packing up now, cover our exit.”

“We’ll pick you up outside,” Andy replied. “You’ve got ten minutes to get downstairs. The elevator is on stand by and Nile is in the waiting room ready to trigger the fire alarm as soon as you two are in the lobby.”

“Got it. We’re on our way down.” Joe ended the call and tucked the radio back into his bag. Brows arching, he touched Nicky’s too thin legs, drawing his hands up along the backs of his calves. “Can you walk, _habibi_?”

Nicky hopped down off the Animus, holding it as he stood. His feet were shaky, his balance unsteady. He’d been heavily sedated in Abstergo’s Animus for days, weeks even, and he could feel it in every part of his body from the atrophied muscles to the bed sores raw along the line of his back. “I think so. Give me time.”

“We don’t have much of that. Here, put these on.” Joe helped him out of the thin patient’s gown he’d been wearing and brought over a black hoodie and a pair of jeans. Nicky got the hoodie on alright, but the thick jean fabric scratched his over sensitive skin as Joe helped him into the pants.

“ _Cazzo._ Shit,” Nicky hissed, his legs trembling.

Joe grimaced kissing his hip as he stood. “ _Mi dispiace, habibi._ I’m sorry, my love.”

“It’s not your fault,” Nicky muttered as he finished pulling down the hoodie. “Fucking Abstergo.”

“I’ll kill them all,” Joe growled. 

“And I will enjoy watching you do it,” Nicky replied with a subtle smile. 

Joe kissed the upturned corner of his lips.

 _“Pronto?_ Ready?”

“ _Andiamo_. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos give Nicky a much needed hug <3  
> Your comments pick up a caffellatte on the way through the heavily secured lobby ^^;
> 
> My holidays are over so I'll be trying my best to update weekly on weekends!


	2. THE ESCAPE

Nicky pulled the black hood of his sweater on over his head, hiding his exhausted and sunken features as the elevator carried them down to the ground floor. Joe had done his best with the disguises, but they still didn’t exactly blend in. 

In a hoodie and jeans Nicky looked like any other mid-tier software engineer walking around Abstergo HQ. There were plenty of them wandering the lobby at this time of day, enjoying a lunch break or ordering a caffellatte from the onsite barista. 

However, limping and wobbly at Joe’s side, Nicky wasn’t exactly a picture of good health. To the outside observer, Nicky had either just been in a fight, or he was about two steps away from heaving up his lunch. Honestly, he felt a little bit of both.

Joe, on the other hand, looked like a chic tech executive carrying the stolen Abstergo prototype at his side like a briefcase. His hair was neatly tousled and his beard cleanly trimmed. He scanned the room from beneath a fashionable pair of sunglasses that Nicky knew had an internal interface. Joe’s glasses displayed a map of the building layout with obstacles and dangers highlighted. Besides that, his disguise consisted simply of a casual v-neck under an expensive blazer. For once in his life, his trousers were neatly pressed.

“I like that you dressed up for me,” Nicky teased in the elevator on their way down.

Joe chuckled and replied, “Don’t get used to it,” before shooting him his usual charming wink.

They stepped out into the mezzanine above the lobby. It was just around lunchtime, so plenty of people were milling about. Still Joe and Nicky were extremely exposed. Walking down the stairs, they passed far too many guards. Abstergo seemed to have security stationed at nearly every threshold, guns and nightsticks at the ready.

Two guards walked by just as they were reaching the bottom of the steps. Joe stopped abruptly and Nicky hissed. He stumbled on the last step, tripping forward. 

Joe caught him before he fell, but dropped the case containing the Portable Animus in the process. It clattered heavily as it landed on the pristine marble floor.

“ _Cazzo._ Shit,” Nicky muttered, grimacing when the expensive tech finally stopped tumbling.

“Better it than you,” Joe huffed out a half-amused laugh. He was just helping Nicky to his feet when a voice from off to their left caused them to jolt.

“ _Posso aiutarla, signore?_ Can I give you a hand, sir?”

Nicky’s eyes widened and shot up. 

A fully armed Abstergo security officer was standing over them. He frowned at Nicky, possibly startled by how pale and sickly he looked. “You okay there, pal?”

“We’re fine,” Joe replied quickly, wrapping his arm around Nicky’s shoulders. “He just… ate something that didn’t agree with him. You know how the cafeteria is. Taking him home for the day.”

The guard chuckled at that. “Yeah, always avoid the pre-made sushi. Well, hope you feel better and don’t forget your—” The guard reached down to pick up the case, but before he could touch it, Nicky saw some text scroll across the glass lens in front of his eye. It was some kind of security warning and as soon as it scanned the case the text turned red. It was visible to Nicky and Joe, but backwards. However, the guard’s reaction was clear.

He frowned, his focus shifting between the text in his lens and the case before finally snapping on the two men before him. With suspicion heavy in his gaze, he straightened back up and placed a hand on his gun. “Could I see your credentials?”

Joe glanced at Nicky, who held his breath. Clearing his throat, Joe turned back to the guard.

“My badge is in my case. If you would just give me one second, I’ll—” he didn’t have time to finish. 

The lobby was suddenly filled with noise as the power flickered and the security lights came on. The fire alarm rang and the sprinkler system flared up, dousing the marble floors in a wet wash.

“That’s our cue.” Joe grabbed the case in one hand and wrapped the other around Nicky’s waist. They ran as fast as they could towards the exit, but the security guard’s voice followed close behind.

“Hey! Get back here!”  
Employees scattered across the lobby to get out from under the spray of water. Moving between them, more Abstergo security rushed in. They had guns drawn, pointed at Joe and Nicky.

“Stop them! Those two have a stolen prototype! Seal the doors and take them dow—!”

A silenced gunshot whizzed through the air, cutting off the head guard’s words.

Nicky turned to see Nile coming up alongside them with a rifle in hand.

“Nicky! Thank god!” Nile had relief etched into her features, but there wasn’t much time for pleasantries. As soon as the head guard dropped a rain of gunfire filled the air.

“Let’s go!” Joe shouted over the riot of noise. He hauled Nicky along as fast as he could manage, heading toward the exit.

Nile covered them, shooting back at the Abstergo guards with a soldier’s deadly accuracy. When they reached the lobby doors, Joe tried the handle only to find the building had been locked down.

“Fuck!” he hissed.

“Outta the way!” Nile shoved him aside and shot through the glass. With a crash, the tempered surface shattered into a million tiny pieces. “I’m right behind you! Go!”

Joe helped Nicky over the shattered glass and out the broken window. As soon as they were through, Nile was quick to follow. 

The three of them ran out over the square in front of the office tower just in time to see a van pulling up. It hopped up over the curb, sending pedestrians running to get out of the way.

The van rolled to a screeching halt and the side door slid open. 

Booker jumped out with a rifle in hand. 

“ _Allons-y!_ Let’s go!” He called out before pulling back on the trigger, returning fire on the Abstergo security team following them out of the building through the window one at a time. He sprayed them with a hail of bullets as Nicky, Joe and Nile ran across the open square. 

As soon as the Abstergo security team got the doors unlocked again, they rushed out like a swarm. Booker aimed toward their front line, and fired, sending them skittering to hide behind the stone columns that filled the building’s overhanging entryway. 

Booker’s cover gave his team time to run, but once secure the Abstergo guards kept on firing back. Nile turned to help cover while Joe rushed Nicky to the van.

Inside, Andy leaned back in the driver’s seat and slammed her palm against the metal roof.

“Come on! Move! Move!” she shouted, waving them in.  
They passed Booker who stopped firing to take the case off Joe so he could lift Nicky into the back. Nile was last. She was still engaged in suppression fire, backing towards the van when a bullet ripped across her shoulder.

“Motherfu—” she screamed, clutching her arm.

“Nile!” Nicky called out to her, his voice weak from the strain of their escape and all that had been done to him. Still, he leaned up, trying to go to her. Joe had to hold him down.

Nile fired a few more shots before diving into the back of the van. As soon as she hit the floor, Andy put her foot down and they took off in a puff of burnt rubber. Booker slid the door shut behind them with one foot as bullets sprinkled around the inside. 

They were out of there and down the street with two minutes to spare before the cops and more Abstergo backup could show.

“ _Ho! C'était bien, non?_ That was fun, no?” Booker laughed, collapsing back against the floor of the van with a heavy exhale. 

“Nile?” Nicky said again, his voice shaking with worry.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” Nile said through clenched teeth. She pulled off her bomber jacket with a hiss, revealing the bullet wound in her shoulder. The red gash was going to leave quite a scar, but Nile swallowed down a pained groan, smiling for Nicky’s benefit. “It just grazed me, is all.”

Andy shot a glance back at them through the rearview mirror. “Booker, patch her up.”

With a huffing groan, Booker pulled himself up off the floor and went searching for the first-aid kit. He found it quickly and replied, “I’m on it, boss. Let’s see that trophy, Nile.”

Knowing that Nile was going to be alright, Nicky collapsed back against the floor. He closed his eyes, breathing deep.

“Nicky?” Joe whispered.

Reaching out, Nicky’s hand found Joe’s. He threaded their fingers together and held him close to his chest.

“ _Sto bene. Sto bene_. I’m okay,” he whispered without opening his eyes.  
—

They drove south for an hour before dumping the van and switching to a car. Another hour passed and they switched vehicles one more time before heading towards their safehouse just outside Naples.

The safehouse was a three bedroom flat at the top of a low rent apartment block. As soon as they got inside, the entire team collapsed from the exhaustion of the day. There was relief but no energy for celebration, besides, there was very little to celebrate.

“We need to figure out how the fuck Abstergo knew where to find us in Egypt,” Andy snapped.

“We can work on that later,” Booker nodded towards Nicky who was only still standing because Joe’s arm was wrapped securely around his waist. “Let’s rest up first for now, okay?”

Andy followed his gaze and relented with a short grunt. Shaking her head, she stormed off into the kitchen. Booker followed, plucking a dusty bottle of whiskey up off one of the side tables. 

“Still half full? Surprised I left you,” he muttered to the bottle before joining Andy.

Joe watched them leave, shaking his head. “Come on,” he murmured, turning his full attention to Nicky. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Nicky wanted to grumble about having been in bed for weeks, but he didn’t have the strength. Leaving Andy and Booker to their drinking in the kitchen, Joe helped him to one of the bedrooms. 

The safehouse outside Naples, despite its size and low-rent status, was actually one of their nicer hideouts. Nicky and Joe got some privacy in their own room. Not only that, but there were real beds as well, not just some sleeping bags and thin futon matts stacked up on rusty cots like they had in Paris. That place was the worst.

Joe helped Nicky to bed, laying him down gently on top of the soft sheets.

Nile followed along behind them. She stood in the doorway with worry creasing her brow.

“Nicky, you gonna be okay?” she asked, biting her lip. Nile was still young. She’d only recently joined the assassins. In fact, Egypt was her first real job with them. It was supposed to be smooth sailing; they definitely hadn’t been expecting this.

“What’d they do to you, exactly?” she asked. “You look a lot worse than when you usually get out of an Animus session.”

“ _Grazie mille,_ Nile. Thanks a lot,” Nicky grumbled ironically. He was laying on his back with one arm thrown over his eyes, sensitive to the light, like he was having a massive migraine.

“Do you know what happens when you stay in the Animus too long?” Joe asked Nile with a raised brow. When she shook her head, he went on, “It does things to your mind. It’s called the Bleeding Effect.” 

“Bleeding?” Nile repeated, her eyes wide. “Is Nicky’s brain gonna—”

“I’m fine,” Nicky groaned from his place on the bed. 

Joe patted his hip and turned back to Nile with a somber smile. “It’s more of a metaphorical bleeding. The memories of your genetic ancestors mix with your reality, your past bleeds into your present.”

“It’s why we always tell you not to stay in the Animus too long. You need to take breaks,” Nicky muttered. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been overexposed before. When Andy first found us, Abstergo had me and Joe brainwashed into thinking we were working on some kind of... video game? Wasn’t it?”

“The fucking Helix project,” Joe hummed in agreement. “They’d leave us in the machines for hours doing what they called _character research_ while they stole our genetic data.” 

Still, he could have argued that even then they’d never been left in the Animus for longer than forty-eight hours, but now was not the time. 

Joe leaned over and pressed a kiss to Nicky’s forehead. “Rest, _ya amar_ , my moon.”

Nicky hummed, pulling his hand away from one eye so he could peer up at Joe. “ _Stare con me._ Rest with me?”

Joe settled in with a wide grin, tucking himself up behind Nicky and kissing his neck. “If you’d like.”  
Nicky nodded before closing his eyes once more.

Nile smiled at the two of them. Then, pursing her lips, she idly tapped her hand against her thigh. “Well, I’m gonna go get something to eat. Are either of you hungry? I could bring you something.”

“A hot drink would be nice,” Nicky murmured through a sleepy yawn.

Nile chuckled softly. “You got it.”  
—

Leaving the lovebirds to enjoy their privacy, Nile stepped into the kitchen. She was met with a mess of wires and tech all strewn about the place. 

She sighed. It had taken less than five minutes for work to take over the entire house. 

Andy and Booker stood, both leaning over the table, crowded around a laptop and two glasses of whiskey.

“Boss, take a look at this,” Booker said, double clicking on something so the information popped up full screen.

“Animus data… Hours logged… 329?!” Andy nearly choked on her disbelief. “Motherfuckers. That can’t be. Is that even possible?”

“It certainly shows negligence.” Booker shrugged. He obviously didn’t know what to say. “Abstergo wrote the manual on Animus protocol. I don’t know what the hell they were doing breaking their own rules like this when they know damn well what happens to people exposed for that long.”

Getting worried now, Nile approached, trying to catch a look at the screen between the two. “What’s wrong?”

Booker glanced over at her and took a deep breath. “They had Nicky plugged into a single Animus session for nearly two weeks,” he explained, returning his gaze to the screen. “Recommended max is six hours total daily exposure with a break at some point in the day midway through.”

“Shit.” Andy backed away from the computer, rubbing her hands over her face.

“Oh.” Nile breathed. Her mind raced, thinking back on what Joe had told her. Something about the Bleeding Effect. “Is he gonna be okay? I mean. He seems like he’ll be okay, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know. I think so? We’d probably notice if anything was wrong by now, right?” Booker wondered aloud, turning to Andy.

“Don’t look at me,” Andy snapped. “You’re the one who used to work for those bastards, you tell us.”

Pursing his lips, Booker turned back to the computer. He stood over the monitor with his arms crossed over his chest. His sad-steely eyes stayed glued to the numbers on the screen. 

“I really don’t know.”

Andy took a deep breath.

“Booker?” Nile said, hoping for a clearer answer.

The man shook his head, because he obviously didn’t have one. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos spoon up behind Nicky and take a nice nap <3  
> Your comments get some actual information out of Booker (-_-’)


	3. THE BLEEDING EFFECT

Nicky’s dreams had always been vivid, but they’d never felt quite this real before. He had to wonder… Was he still in the Animus? Or was this real life?

Static etched its way through his mind, neurons glitching like a broken computer screen. Images scattered and came together again and again until shards of memories from a past that was not his own cut into his reality.

Niccolò di Genova’s assassin was with him in his dreams. His dark eyes calm and apologetic. His fist was clenched and when he opened his hand a hidden blade appeared just above the remaining knuckle of his scarred ring finger. 

The assassin stepped forward, slow and deliberate. Splintering reality began chipping away at Nicky’s sanity. A physical fragment of memory data flashed brilliant light across his killer’s eerily familiar features. He knew his assassin, and then, he didn’t.

“No,” he gasped. “Not again.”

The assassin didn’t stop. His knife seemed very real as it glinted in the shadowy dreamscape like the particles of broken memory scattered through the atmosphere. This man had killed him before. He’d taken that blade to Nicky’s throat and he would do it again and again without hesitation.

Nicky backed away clutching his throbbing skull. Stumbling, he tripped over his own feet and fell in the darkness. The ground beneath him was both solid and liquid, both there and not there. Eternity stretched out below, endless and terrifying.

With a startled shout, Nicky scrambled, turning onto his back as the figure came closer, faster, deadly and determined. He kicked his legs, pushing himself along the glitching dark ground.

Nicky closed his eyes and reached out blindly. He was desperate, desperate for a weapon, cold steel in his hand, a sword, anything. His grip closed around the metal handle and he lunged with a bloodcurdling battlecry.

—

“ _Svegliati._ Wake up. Nicky. Shit.”

Nicky held the gun in his hand. The muzzle pressed firmly into the soft skin just under his enemy’s bearded throat. His finger arched over the trigger, shaking, ready to pull back, ready to kill.

“ _Ti prego, amore mio._ Please, my love.”

The world spun. Disconnected images from a foreign dream faded until reality returned. All too vivid. All too surreal. 

Nicky blinked. He stared down into the dark eyes from his dream and his reality. The cruel calm was gone, replaced with confusion and concern. 

The man below him was utterly terrified. Terrified of him.

“Joe?”

“Sì. _Sono io,_ Nicky _._ Yes. It’s me.”

Nicky was sitting on Joe’s chest, knees locked around his ribs, pinning him down. Joe had his hands raised, yielding to Nicky and to whatever was about to happen.

“Joe, I— What was I about to—?” Nicky dropped the gun and scrambled off his lover’s chest until he fell to the floor. He pressed his fists into his eyes. “ _Cazzo di merda! Ma che cazzo?_ Fucking shit. What the fuck?”

“Hey. Nicky.” Joe followed him down, reaching out to him. “ _Va tutto bene. Calmati._ Everythings fine. Calm down,” he whispered, cradling his lover in his arms.

Nicky wanted to laugh and cry. In all the time they’d been together, he was the one usually telling Joe to calm down. The man was a firecracker with a short fuse, easily set off. 

God, Nicky remembered the day Booker had first admitted to them that he’d been working for Abstergo, hired to spy on them. Book had only decided to defect after joining the Assassins and getting to know them and their cause. Joe would have killed the man had Nicky not stepped between them.

“Joe… What’s happening to me?” Nicky sobbed, shaking his head. “What the fuck did they do to me?”

“Hey. It’s not you, _habibi_. It’s just the machine. It got into your head.”

Breathing deeply, Nicky trembled as Joe held him in his arms.

“I would never I—I could have killed you,” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes.

“ _Could have_ being the operative words,” Joe noted with a smile. He was trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t working. Wiping away Nicky’s tears, he pressed kisses to the other man’s lips. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Nicky wrapped his arms around Joe’s, holding him close, never wanting to let go. He looked into his lover’s dark eyes and opened his mouth to speak when their door crashed open.

“Joe! Nicky!” Nile burst into the room, gun in hand. Her eyes scanned the space like a soldier walking into a combat zone. She relaxed when she saw them together, but the tension was still high. “I heard someone shouting.”

Nicky groaned miserably into Joe’s collar while Joe pinched the bridge of his nose.

Nile was quickly followed by Andy and Booker who would have had to be dead not to hear all the commotion in their tiny flat of a safehouse. The two of them rushed in groggy with massive bags under their eyes. It was unlikely they’d actually been sleeping at all.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Booker demanded.

“Abstergo?” Andy cut in, her gaze tracing every inch of the room.

“It’s alright, we’re fine,” Joe assured them. “It was just a bad dream, right Nicky?”

Nicky glanced up into Joe’s eyes. It was much more than that, but he knew what Joe meant. Now was not the time. He took a deep breath and nodded. 

“ _Solo un incubo._ Just a nightmare,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

Booker looked between the two on the floor. With a heavy sigh, he deliberately reached out and pressed a gentle hand to Nile’s wrists, signalling for her to lower her weapon.

“A word to the wise,” he started with an amused huff. “Next time you hear Nicky screaming like that assume the worst, but don’t come knocking, alright Nile?” 

“ _Casse-toi,_ _Sébastien_. Fuck off,” Joe hissed.

Booker raised his hands, yielding as he backed out of the room. “ _Bien, je me recouche._ Alright, I’m going back to bed.”

Nile rubbed the back of her head, clearly more than a little embarrassed. “Sorry, guys.”

Nicky, usually one to offer a word of comfort, could only lift a tired smile.

Andy let out a sigh, both exhausted and relieved. She gave Nile a soft pat on the shoulder before turning to Joe and Nicky. “You two gonna be alright?”

“Yes,” Joe answered for them both and Nicky was glad for it because he wasn’t as sure. “Nicky just needs to rest a while.”

Nicky nodded.

Rest. He just needed rest.

—

It wasn’t until the next day that Joe, at Nicky’s request, told the rest of the team what had really happened the night before. They were at the table, just finishing breakfast, when he cleared his throat.

“About last night,” Joe started.

“ _Ce que vous faites en privé…_ What you do in the privacy of…”

“Booker, I will—” Joe hissed through clenched teeth.

Nicky reached over, touching Joe’s arm, instantly calming him down.

Unclenching his fist, Joe took a deep breath. “Nicky is seeing things. Things from the Animus.”

A tense air rose up and chilled the entire room like an icy breeze. For a moment, no one moved. Frozen in place.

“How do you know?” Andy asked, breaking the silence but not the ice.

“Last night, when Nicky woke up screaming, he was not himself. He was…” Joe paused, searching for the right words. “He thought he was being attacked by someone who attacked his ancestor.”

Booker and Andy exchanged a glance. Across the table, Nile’s eyes went wide.

“This is… the Bleeding Effect you were telling me about?” she asked. When Joe nodded, she cocked her head to one side. “Okay? So what happened?”

Joe sucked his teeth, searching for the right words. “Well, like I said, he saw someone attacking him, his ancestor, so in his defence he—”

“I almost shot Joe,” Nicky admitted abruptly. It wouldn’t have seemed possible before, but the tension in the air increased so palpably the team could barely breathe. “This man was coming toward me. He seemed so real and he had a hidden blade, so I reached for a weapon and—”

“Attends, attends, _attends une seconde_. Wait a second.” Booker leaned forward. “You almost did what now?”

“ _Scusa, questo è davvero troppo_. Sorry, this is all too much.” Nicky murmured more to himself than to anyone present. “Joe will tell you. I—I just need to rest a while longer.”

He stood and made to leave, placing a hand on Joe’s shoulder as he passed. Automatically, Joe returned the touch, lightly trailing his fingers over Nicky’s before they slipped away. Nicky half-stumbled from the room, clearly overwhelmed.

The rest of the team sat in an extended silence long after they heard Joe and Nicky’s bedroom door close. 

Booker was the first to break the tense air with a low whistling exhale. 

“ _C'est moche ça_. This is bad. What the fuck are we going to do with him?”

Joe frowned and shot a dark glance across the table. “That won’t be your concern. I’ll take care of Nicky. I always have.”

With a humourless laugh, Booker shook his head. “And what happens if he glitches out one day and you’re not there? The guy’s a ticking time bomb.”

“Fuck you, Booker!” Joe hissed.

Rolling his eyes, Booker pulled out his flask. “Hey! I’m just saying! He almost shot you and you’re fucking him, so what chance do the rest of us—”

Joe slammed his hand down on the table and stood from his seat. The chair scraped against the floor, nearly clattering to the ground. By the look in his eyes, he was about one more word away from going for Booker’s throat.

“I think Nicky’s gonna be the least of your worries if you don’t shut up, Book,” Nile muttered, her gaze shifting between the two of them.

Booker just kept his eyes on Joe and took a long swig from his flask. Thankfully he couldn’t talk while he was drinking.

“Joe. Booker. Please,” Andy cut in, rubbing her brow. “This is Nicky we’re talking about. We’ll find a way to help him. Whatever it takes.”

Joe let his rage die down. He sat, but his narrow gaze was still on Booker and his arms were crossed tight over his chest.

Booker avoided his glare, turning to Andy instead. He didn’t protest, but he had a dubious expression in his cold blue eyes. 

“Fine. We go out and we discover a miraculous cure for the Bleeding Effect. A cure, I will have you know, not even Abstergo has invested in and they have fucking billions.” He shook his head at the impossible task. “How do you propose we do this? Where do we even start?”

Andy was silent for a long while. Then, she sucked in a breath. “We gotta get him to Copley.”

“Copley!” Joe had just come down, but the suggestion spiked his rage back up and burst the meter. “Fuck Copley! He’s an Abstergo lapdog, probably the reason for all this in the first place!”

“Ha!” Booker let out a barking laugh, clearly in disbelief because, finally, this was something they could both agree on. “Seriously, boss? Copley? You really wanna trust that guy?”

Andy crossed her arms over her chest and gave a somber nod. “After he found out what’s been happening at Abstergo Industries, he says he wants to switch sides.”

Booker scoffed. “And you believe him?”

“We believed you, didn’t we?” Andy snapped. Her words drew an indignant huff from Joe, but they got their intended result. Booker stopped talking.

“We wanted to figure out how they knew where to find us, right?” Nile cut in, looking between her teammates. “Copley could have the answer there too.”  
“Nile is right,” Andy said with a nod. “I don’t like it anymore than any of you, but we need him.”   
—

They decided that Joe would be the one to tell Nicky the plan, naturally. Nicky had an almost monk-like personality, but he was no Mother Teresa. If the idea of getting help from the people who had so badly fucked with his head set him off, Joe would be the one who could calm him down.

With a heavy breath, Joe walked into their room. Nicky was in bed, lying disturbingly flat as if he were still strapped down to the Animus in the Abstergo test lab. His eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling.

When Joe knocked on the edge of the doorway, Nicky’s gaze shifted toward the sound. His body jolted for a moment. He sat up, but the tense air only lasted a second. As soon as he realized it was Joe, He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, pressing them with his palms.

“I don’t think I’m fine anymore, Joe,” he muttered, a sad smile on his lips. 

Joe tried his best to mirror the expression with a genuine smile of his own, but it was nigh impossible. “What did you see just now?” he asked as he approached their bed.

“You, only, it wasn’t you.” Nicky flopped back down onto the mattress and shook his head. “ _Difetti_. Glitches. Anomalies. Memories. It all seems so real, but I don’t know what is and what isn’t.” He blinked up at the ceiling. “This is what going mad feels like.”

Joe groaned and he leaned over Nicky. His elbows fell to either side of Nicky’s head and his palms rested on his lover’s crown as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. He wanted so badly to protect Nicky from whatever was going on in his mind, but he couldn’t, there was nothing he could do.

“I have to tell you something and you’re not going to like it,” Joe murmured, his lips brushing Nicky’s forehead as he spoke.

“ _Cosa c'è?_ What is it?” Nicky replied as he wrapped his arms around the soothingly warm weight of Joe’s body.

“We need to take you to a man named James Copley,” Joe told him. “He’s the only one who might have information that can help.”

“Copley,” Nicky repeated the name, frowning up at him. “Who is this Copley?”

“He’s a researcher. Works with Abstergo.”

Nicky was quiet for a long while.

“Nicky?” Joe pulled back a bit. He had to hold back a huffing laugh at the angry pout etched over his lover’s usually soft features. 

“ _Odio questo piano._ I hate this plan,” Nicky bit out petulantly.

“It’s Andy’s,” Joe told him. He knew it would help. Andy was their boss and Nicky could trust her.

Nicky closed his eyes and sighed a relenting exhale. “Alright then.” When he opened his eyes, he shot Joe a narrow glance. “You are sure it wasn’t Booker’s plan?” he teased. A little smirk appeared on his lips that didn’t quite reach his tired eyes.

“Positive.” Joe laughed. He leaned in, kissing that subtle smile he loved so much. 

As they kissed, Nicky reached up, wrapping Joe in an embrace, holding him as if he were the last thread of his sanity. 

“So,” Nicky whispered against Joe’s lips when they finally broke for air, “when do we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos take a much needed swig from Booker's flask. (-___-)  
> Your comments wrap Nicky in blankets and give him a hot drink. c[__]


	4. THE TURNCOAT

As much as the team now needed him, none of them trusted Copley, so they weren’t exactly planning to call and give him a friendly heads up that they were popping by to visit. 

The last time they’d tracked down James Copley, Andy and Booker had picked him up leaving an Abstergo research lab in the company’s Swiss offices. They’d brought him to a hotel, set him in front of a hacked Abstergo data tablet and he told them where they’d taken Nicky. Once they had Copley’s access and a plan to rescue Nicky from Abstergo HQ, Andy let the man go with a promise to keep in touch. 

But of course, Copley didn’t stay in Switzerland long after that.

Using his old contacts and their hacked Abstergo device, Booker was easily able to track Copley down to a modern, upscale mansion in Surrey, England, only a couple of hours flight from Naples. Once on the ground in Heathrow, the team piled into a rented car and made their way out of the city.

They drove past a military base, heading along rural backroads. Eventually, Booker nodded to the house as they came up a back drive. They parked by an old disused cattle gate and got out slamming the car doors. 

They walked slow, all holding their weapons at the ready. It was unlikely Copley knew they were coming, but Abstergo could be anywhere.

At the head of her group, Andy sauntered up to Copley’s door and hit the bell. 

When James Copley slid open the glass doors to the sight of five assassins glaring at him on his back porch, he seemed surprised, but not completely shocked.

“Well, this is a pleasant visit,” Copley said slowly. “I suppose, I have no choice but to welcome you all in.” He stepped aside. “Please.”

Andy crept forward first, scoping the place out. Joe followed close behind. He had a gun trained on Copley and he gestured with it, urging the man back into the house. 

With his hands raised, Copley moved away from the door, stepping back until he was standing in the center of his mansion’s grand entry hall. 

“No tricks, Copley,” Joe murmured, checking the man’s pockets quickly for weapons. He found a cellphone and took it, handing the device back to Nile .

“There’s no silent alarm,” Nile told them before disabling his phone’s connection. She peered up from the frequency scanner on her own cell and looked around the house. “Nice place.”

“Thank you,” Copley replied calmly, not taking his eyes off the muzzle of Joe’s gun for a second. “I’m not sure if Andy mentioned, but I’ve decided to turncoat, as it were. I’m on your side now.”

“Sure,” Joe replied, not lowering his gun for a second. “I’ll believe it when I see proof.”

“And so that’s what you must be here for then. Proof,” Copley said. His gaze shifted between the five of them. Eventually his eyes landed on Nicky and he cocked his head to one side. “Ah, here’s a new face. You’re the one Abstergo took, aren’t you?” 

Nicky blinked and looked away. He didn’t reply. The way Copley frowned with a knowing look in his eyes was unnerving. In a strange way, it was like he could see through Nicky, see that something wasn’t quite right with him.

Sensing Nicky’s discomfort, Joe grit his teeth. He stepped up to Copley, pointing his gun into the man’s face.

“Turncoat or not, you worked for Abstergo,” he hissed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know what was going on.”

Copley raised his hands, yielding. “I’m sorry, but you’ve come to me. Excuse me if I have a few questions.” He nodded towards Nicky. “First one being, what did they do to your friend over there at Abstergo HQ?”

“Why don’t you tell us, you piece of—”

“Joe,” Andy snapped. Stepping forward, she reached out. With a hand on Joe’s wrists, she forced him to lower his gun. “You need to sit this one out.”

“Boss!”

“I’m serious. You’re not exactly an objective bystander.” Andy nodded towards where Nicky was looking a little wobbly on his feet with his fists clenched at his sides. “Take Nicky somewhere he can sit down and we’ll come up with a plan. I’ll sort this out.” She lifted a hand to Joe’s shoulder. “I promise.”

Joe grit his teeth, but with a sharp curse, he did as he was told. He stood down.

—

As soon as Nicky and Joe moved away, settling in the living room, James Copley eyed the three remaining assassins. He lowered his hands and raised a brow. “Sort this out?” Copley asked as soon as Joe was out of earshot. “I assume by ‘this’ you mean whatever is wrong with your friend over there. The one with the massive bags under his eyes.”

“Well, that’s uncalled for,” Booker huffed, rubbing his own sunken eyes because honestly Nicky’s few days lack of sleep did nothing on Booker’s years of chronic insomnia. “But yeah, I’m sure it’s no surprise to hear, but Nicky’s not doing so hot after the bullshit Abstergo put him through.”

Turning from Booker, Copley took in the sadness in Nile’s features and the cold steel of Andy’s unshakable determination. He nodded. “Look, I can see your friend Joe won’t believe me, but if I can help Nicky in any way, I’d be glad to offer my services.” Copley side eyed the gun Nile was still holding even though it wasn’t aimed his way anymore. “No threats required. I meant what I said. I’ve been playing for the wrong team long enough.”

Andy placed her hands on her hips. Her head lolled in a nod.

“Okay,” she started. “What do you know about the Bleeding Effect?”

“Ah,” Copley’s gaze shifted towards Joe and Nicky in the living room, piecing together the puzzle they’d presented. “I’ve done some research, but it’s all unauthorized. Abstergo didn’t exactly want us poking around their illicit studies, interviewing their test subjects or spreading the news that overexposure to their machines is horrifyingly dangerous.”

Booker grunted. “But they knew.” 

It wasn’t a question but Copley answered anyway. “Oh yes,” he replied, letting out a humourless laugh. “The data all exists. It was just hidden away in what Abstergo liked to call ‘doctor-patient confidentiality’ files.”

“More like ‘mad scientist and experimentation victim’ files,” Nile muttered. “How do they get away with this shit?”

“They have more money than god.” Booker crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. “Abstergo can do whatever they like behind closed doors.”

Copley sighed, he couldn’t argue with facts. Shaking his head, he turned to Andy who was staring off into the distance.

“Do you know how many hours he was exposed?” Copley asked her. “The longest session, if there were multiple.” 

“There was only one session logged. 329 hours,” Andy muttered with a grimace. 

“Oh dear. That’s—” Copley paused to let out a heavy exhale. “If you can get Nicky to come with me, I have an Animus workstation in the other room.”

Andy frowned. “You want to put him back in the machine?”

“Possibly,” Copley replied without hesitation. “For now, I’ll just use it to check what damage was done.”

The furrow of Andy’s brow creased but eventually she clicked her tongue and nodded to Booker.

“Joe. Nicky,” Booker called out to the two in the living room. They looked up and stood when he cocked his head, gesturing for them to come along. 

Copley led the group of assassins further into his home and down a set of steps. They reached a lab underground, glassy and clean. All of the latest Abstergo tech lined the pristine walls and desktops. 

There were three Animus machines, each surrounded by an array of monitors. Two looked like the latest models on the market while the third seemed more like a prototype. Copley gestured for Joe to help Nicky set up in the first machine.

“Are you going to be okay?” Joe asked softly as he pressed his palm to Nicky’s forehead, brushing back a shock of brunette hair.

Nicky nodded. “I don’t have to go back there, right?”

Joe turned to look at Copley and the man shook his head.

“We won’t be putting you into the genetic memory simulation,” he told them. “I’m just using the machine to check your vitals and past session data.”

With that said Copley walked over to a monitoring screen on the other side of the room. Andy, Booker and Nile followed, leaving Joe to sit with Nicky near the Animus. 

The data started coming through as soon as the machine registered its new occupant. Lines and lines of text delineating Nicky’s state of mind appeared. 

Copley inhaled sharply. He pointed to the screen. “Can you see where the code changes colour here? That’s the memory overlap, the Bleeding Effect. It’s converging at about fifteen percent and it’ll only increase. I’ve only seen a case this severe once before.” 

“And?” Andy pushed.

“Well… It wasn’t pretty.” Copley pulled another monitor over and opened up a file. He started reading aloud, “Subject 16, suffered from the Bleeding Effect after prolonged exposure to the Animus. He was unable to control the effect and his ancestor’s memories drove him mad. This lead to bursts of irrational behaviour and resulted in his eventual suici—”

“ _Putain_ , fuck, don’t sugar coat it for us, doc,” Booker groaned, shaking his head. Turning away from the others for a moment, he pulled his flask out of his pocket and took a hefty swig.

“I’m sorry, these are just the facts,” Copley said. Setting aside Booker's outburst, he focused his attention on Andy and Nile. “Therapy and medication have been shown to have… some effect.”

Andy scoffed furiously. “ _Some effect_ doesn’t fix things. We aren’t exactly living in the suburbs with easy access to affordable healthcare. We’re assassins. Nicky is an assassin. He can’t just… go to a therapist and get that kind of help. Abstergo will find him and when they do they’ll put him right back in their machine until they get whatever it is they wanted.”

Copley sucked his teeth, but he nodded. “I’ll keep looking. But there’s limited data. Most of it’s been burned or wiped clean. To be completely honest, these folders that I have aren’t exactly supposed to exist.” 

Booker turned back to them, tucking his flask away with a smile that didn’t cover up the dark look in his eyes. “You can be honest with us,” he drawled. 

“Just keep digging. There must be something,” Andy was practically begging now. She couldn’t lose another soldier, not after Quynh, not after what happened to her when Abstergo caught up with them last time. “If there’s anything at all, we’ll try it.”

Copley turned, glancing towards Nicky. He was laying in the Animus and Joe was at his side, leaning over him. Their heads pressed as if Joe were trying to give Nicky his strength.

“We might need to see this through to the end,” Copley murmured. 

“What do you mean by that?” Andy cut in.

Turning back to the monitor, Copley began tapping away. He opened the Animus program and accessed Nicky’s data as he explained, “It’s called a Sync Nexus. We’ve only done it once before. It’s an extended process, but there was some success observed. Basically, if Nicky can reach a point where he has experienced every aspect of his ancestor’s memories, maybe, just maybe, his mind can leave them in the past where they belong.” The team frowned. No one had quite caught up to whatever page Copley was on.

“So he just needs to go into the same Animus session and live and die as Niccolò di Genova? His ancestor’s entire life?” Nile asked, sounding utterly confused. “That seems like a lot.”

“No. He doesn’t need to die, he just needs to align fully with his ancestor’s memories. We need to find the right moment,” Copley said, still tapping away. “If he’s perfectly aligned, everything from that point on should play out smoothly, like hitting fast forward. Once the past is settled, his mind can heal.”

“So, when we pulled him out of the session last time,” Andy murmured, trying to understand, “it was like a butterfly effect on his memories that messed with his head?”

Copley nodded. “After an hour or two, that type of desynchronization is nothing, but after two weeks… clearly he’s gotten too close to Niccolò di Genova’s broken data set.”

“This all sounds like fucking science fiction,” Booker piped up, massaging his temples. “Broken memories. Sync Nexus. No one has ever synchronized perfectly without some kind of history guide telling them exactly where to go, what choices to make. How do we intend to make sure Nicky doesn’t desynchronize randomly wandering around in his ancestor’s head alone? Joe pulled him out of the fucking Crusades.” 

“But Joe was there,” Nile cut in before shaking her head and correcting herself, “Not Joe. Joe’s ancestor. Maybe there’s a point where their memories sync? If we drop them at that point together again, let it play out how it was supposed to rather than forcing the desync, maybe it’ll stop the bleeding?”

Andy looked back over her shoulder to where Nicky and Joe were speaking softly to one another in Italian. Their faces bowed forward, foreheads pressed together. She didn’t want to put them back into a world where they were on opposite sides of a battlefield. It wasn’t them. It wasn’t right. 

“It sounds risky,” Andy muttered. “Like Nile said, last time Joe’s ancestor dropped in on Nicky’s it was so we could force the desync. Joe had to kill him. I don't want to come out of this losing both Nicky and Joe.”

“Joe is less of a risk. Nicky on the other hand—” Copley sucked in a breath. “Well, you just have to ask yourselves, is the risk worse than the current reality?”

“What choice do we have?” Booker agreed, though by the way he threw back the last of whatever he kept in that flask of his, he clearly wasn’t thrilled. “As long as I’m not the one who has to tell Joe we’re putting Nicky back in the Animus, I’m all for it.”

Shaking her head, Andy turned from the group and stepped toward Joe and Nicky.

—

They didn’t have any other options so there wasn’t much of an argument to be had, but Joe freaked out at first, of course. As soon as Andy told them the plan, his eyes went wide. He stared at her as if she was the one losing her mind.

“We’re not plugging Nicky back into another fucking Animus session,” Joe snapped. “How is that even a suggestion?! That’s how we got here in the first place!”

“Copley said it’ll only be a few hours,” Andy explained as calmly as she could. “No risk of overexposure.”

“ _Ya ilahi!_ My god!” Joe threw his hands up in the air. “He’s already overexposed!”

“Joe. Please.” Nicky winced. He reached for Joe’s hand and clasped it in a firm grip.

Joe calmed with a deep exhale, but he clearly wasn’t happy. “ _Non mi piace._ I don’t like this.”

“We need you both to go under and let the memories control you,” Andy explained. “Take the straight path through your ancestor’s history.”

“Full synchronization?” Nicky wondered aloud, earning himself a nod from Andy.

“Copley called it a Sync Nexus,” Andy clarified. “It’s the only way anyone’s ever come back after the Bleeding Effect.”

Nicky swallowed and squeezed Joe’s hand in his. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “We’ll do it.”

Joe didn’t seem keen, but turning to Nicky, staring into his lover’s eyes, he understood that this would be worth the risk if it meant they could stop the Bleeding Effect. 

“We’ll do it together,” Joe agreed, squeezing Nicky’s hand right back. 

Andy was the one to help Joe get plugged in while Copley parsed through Nicky’s memories looking for that place where he and Joe had last desynchronized. Booker and Nile looked on with both identical crossed-arm postures and worried frowns. “Are you two ready?” Copley asked, his fingers hovering over the key that would start the program and drop them into the simulation.

Nicky looked to Copley briefly before turning back to Joe. He could lose himself in the depths of Joe’s eyes, soft and oh-so reassuring. Without breaking eye contact, Nicky nodded.

“We’re ready.”

Behind him, he heard Copley inhale deeply. “Alright,” he murmured. “Accessing your previous session data now.”

The last thing Nicky saw before the Animus took over his mind was Joe. He spoke as they dropped into the simulation. Nicky couldn’t hear his voice, but he would recognize the shape of his lover’s lips forming those words even in the darkest night illuminated solely by the moon.

“ _Ti amo_. I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your Kudos lean over Nicky avidly watching to make sure he's okay (-.-)  
> Your Comments give Joe a hug to help him calm down D:


	5. THE SYNC NEXUS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I swear when I started this I was just sort of planning to write smut, but now there is no smut just a massive wonderful AU to align two of my favourite universes :D 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading as they wait for updates and to anyone who was lucky enough to start reading once it was completed! <3 I love you all!

The world shifted, pulling itself inside out with a blur of white static. A sandstorm swept through buried ruins of ancient recollections. Memories collapsed and reformed, both there and not there in the breath of a moment. The fragmented shards of the past melded with the present until the past became the present.

Niccolò di Genova stared into his Saracen enemy’s dark eyes. For a brief second, he couldn’t remember what had brought him to this place, this room, this moment in time, but that sense passed as soon as the puzzle of memory pieced itself back together.

Niccolò blinked and frowned. He scanned the room. Nothing had changed. He was still in his private chambers, the prisoner was still chained to the foot of his bed, but…

“What is your name, priest?” the man he did not yet know asked.

...hadn’t he already answered that question?

“Niccolò. Niccolò di Genova,” he replied, feeling as if he was possessed and fully in control at the same time.

“Niccolò di Genova,” the man repeated, nodding in greeting. “I am Yusuf Al-Kaysani.”

Niccolò already knew that. He remembered it from the banquet hall… though deep down he felt like Yusuf himself had already told him. The sense of déjà vu engulfing his mind cleared away on seeing the strangely beguiling man before him smile ever-so subtly.

“Well,” Niccolò huffed, shaking away his own perplexing uncertainty. “I would say it is a pleasure to meet you, but under the circumstances I admit it—”

He paused just as he was approaching the bed. There was the trunk. He was going to reach into it. It had clothing. A cloak. A cloak he needed to give to Yusuf so that he could escape Jerusalem with his life.

All of this information came to his mind in a manner that made Niccolò feel as if he had pre-planned his actions, but… he hadn’t… had he?

Shaking his head, Niccolò let the odd thought patterns slink away. He bent down and opened the trunk hastily. “You may rest here until morning. I will find you a cloak.”

Next to him, Yusuf hummed a sad tone. “You do not seem like the others,” he murmured.

Niccolò frowned. From the sound of his voice, he could tell Yusuf was closer than before. A warning triggered in Niccolò’s mind that he did not know how to act on. Those words… they were a precursor to something terrible.

“You are a good man,” Yusuf went on. “I am sorry.”

“Sorry—?” The word barely got a chance to escape Niccolò’s lips before a hand wrapped around his neck.

Yusuf had a blade at Niccolò’s throat, touching him like a lover’s teasing caress, brushing his skin while letting him feel the bite. It sprung out of a contraption hidden beneath his clothing. The metal was sharp, but warm on Niccolò’s skin from being pressed close to Yusuf’s wrist for so long.

“Assassin,” Niccolò hissed, earning himself a deep chuckling laugh.

“Unchain me,” Yusuf ordered. When Niccolò parted his lips to sneer, Yusuf pressed the blade more firmly to his skin. “If you try to call for aid I will simply kill you and do it myself.”

Niccolò felt his life flash before his eyes, the past and some bizarre version of the future. He was utterly frozen as a coldness chilled him to his very bones.

Was this how he was going to die?

He weighed his options carefully. “Alright,” Niccolò breathed, moving slowly to the chain at his captive’s feet. “I’ll do as you say.”

Yusuf’s eyes were on him the entire time. Niccolò found the key where the guard had hidden it and unlocked the chains. As soon as the latch was free, Yusuf hauled them both to their feet.

“The cloak, quickly now,” he said with a half-amused smirk playing on his lips.

Niccolò huffed, but there was still a knife pressed to his skin. Turning slowly, he did as he was told. There was a black cloak with a large hood tucked away in his trunk. He only used it when traveling over the water during the cooler months and it was bulky enough to hide Yusuf’s features.

Niccolò held the fabric out to him, but Yusuf only smiled. The assassin shifted his grip on Niccolò’s neck and pulled him in closer.

“If you would be so kind,” Yusuf all-but purred.

Sucking his teeth, Niccolò furiously wrapped the cloak around his enemy’s broad shoulders. He was forced to lean in close and he could feel the warmth of Yusuf’s breath on his neck as the man chuckled. Rougher than he needed to be, he tugged the thick cloth and tied it tight.

“Thank you, Niccolò,” Yusuf said once he was done. “Now, come with me.”

Yusuf lifted the hood of the cloak with one hand so the dark fabric obscured his face, hiding his features. With the other hand on his captor-now-captive’s back, Yusuf nudged Niccolò ahead of him out the bedroom door. They walked through the palace’s empty halls headed towards the stables.

Most of the kingdom had already gone to bed. As they made their way along predominantly deserted corridors, Niccolò kept his eyes straight ahead. He could feel Yusuf’s hand burning low at his waist with every step.

Swallowing hard, Niccolò kept his head down as they passed servants and guards. He didn’t want to risk a fight. He didn’t want to die like this. With just the right movement of his wrist, Yusuf could activate his knife and puncture his kidney with little to no effort.

Once they reached the stables, Yusuf kept him close as he began preparing two horses, stealing the soldiers’ supplies that had been laid out for the next day’s patrol.

“Surely you have no need for me beyond this point. Take one horse and ride to your freedom,” Niccolò whispered, gesturing for him to stop preparing the second animal.

Yusuf grabbed his upper arm and pulled him in so their faces were barely a breath apart. “I will not have you sounding the alarm as soon as you leave my side,” he replied with a harsh huff of a laugh. “Now, get on the horse.”

Niccolò mounted his steed reluctantly and Yusuf held both of the animals’ reins. Silent as the grave, the assassin walked the two horses towards the stable doors and opened them. They creaked, but the guards were either distracted or unobservant. No one noticed the soft echoing tap of horse hooves moving away from the palace. It was when they reached the first arching threshold into the city that Yusuf stopped the horses and mounted.

“There are guards all through this way, you know,” Niccolò told him blithely. “You will get yourself killed and me along with you as you try to escape, assassin. No matter how stealthy you imagine yourself to be.”

Yusuf cast him a glance over one shoulder. They locked eyes for a long while before a handsome grin spread across Yusuf’s bearded face.

“We’ll have to run then, won’t we?”

“What—?”

Before Niccolò could ask, Yusuf let out a loud shout and kicked into his horse's sides. The animal reared up before dashing forward, dragging Niccolò’s mount along at its thundering pace.

The streets were dark in the night and as they passed beneath guarded arches, the soldiers there jumped to their feet. Confused, they had little time to act on the commotion before Niccolò and Yusuf had already disappeared down another narrow roadway.

By the time any alarm sounded all the way back at the palace, Niccolò and Yusuf had already passed through the city gates. They rode hard through the town, heading south until they reached a river. There, Yusuf led their horses along the shallow banks so the flowing water could disguise their tracks from the patrol that was sure to follow.

—

They travelled for hours in the dark of the night beneath a black carpet woven with stars. Only when their horses were huffing from the exertion did they dismount. At the edge of an oasis, Yusuf set up camp. Two matts lay on the sandy edge of the clear blue waters beneath the palm trees under the evening sky. It would have almost been romantic, were it not for their predicament.

“It will be at least a week’s ride to Egypt,” Yusuf said, glancing up at Niccolò as he finished supplying more tinder to the small fire burning in the sand between them.

Niccolò didn’t speak. He simply stared into the fire and tugged at one of the loose fibers on the thick braided rope tied around his wrists. Yusuf had bound his hands as soon as they got off the horses to make camp. The rope wasn’t tight enough to chafe his skin, but the restriction of his movements made him sneer.

“You will take me all the way back with you?” he demanded, his voice barely a whisper. “To Egypt?”

Yusuf nodded. “Yes.”

Niccolò was silent for a long while. “Your people will torture me,” he finally uttered, a shaky murmur in the dark.

“No,” Yusuf snapped at the very suggestion. “I would not let them.”

“Why not?”

“Because you did not let yours do the same to me. You are a good man.” Yusuf smiled. “We will keep you to help us communicate with your people. I speak your language, but you know your culture. One day our leaders will be able to speak to each other and put an end to these misunderstandings and constant attacks.”

Niccolò frowned. “I do not think it will be so simple. There is no misunderstanding as far as my people are concerned. This is a war for the very souls of this land.”

Yusuf seemed hopeful, but deep down Niccolò could tell he knew the truth. The goal of his people’s journey west was not typical conquest. Their treatment of the land made that clear.

Inhaling deep Yusuf moved closer to Niccolò. “Since, there is no simple solution…” With a gentle grip, he took the other man’s hands in his lap.

Niccolò tried to jerk away when Yusuf sprung his hidden blade, but the hand on his wrists didn’t allow him to get far. “What are you doing?” Niccolò demanded, eyes wide and desperate.

Yusuf didn’t respond. He simply lowered the knife to Niccolò’s wrists. With a flick of the sharpened blade, the ropes were cut loose.

Niccolò pulled his hands away as soon as Yusuf released him. Panting in his relief, he rubbed his wrists.

“You were right before,” Yusuf uttered. “I have no true need for you beyond this point and we are far enough away now that by the time you return to your people I will be long gone.” He nodded towards the northern horizon. “If you go now, you might even meet them before dawn.”

Niccolò’s gaze traveled from the man at his size out over the desert sands from whence they’d come. He licked his lips. “My people will have too many questions for me as to how you managed to escape… and besides it’s too dark to travel now.”

“Are you afraid of the dark, Niccolò?” Yusuf asked with a sly smile.

Niccolò side-eyed him and let out another soft huff.

“You know,” Yusuf purred. “You have eyes like a storm on the ocean horizon. You are annoyed with me now and I think that makes them even more beautiful.”

Niccolò snapped his gaze to Yusuf, eyes impossibly wide.

“Excuse me?”

“Now you are confused,” Yusuf murmured with a smirk. “But your eyes are still beautiful.”

“Yusuf… What are you saying?”

“Despite the fact that you are my enemy, I find you appealing.” Yusuf pressed a hand to his heart. “Forgive me if I’ve offended you.”

Niccolò wasn’t sure what to think. He stared at Yusuf, utterly stunned by the man’s unexpected words. “I—well—you have not, it’s just—it’s not the done thing,” he spluttered.

“I see,” Yusuf said with a thoughtful hum as he repeated Niccolò’s words, “Not the done thing.”

“But…” Niccolò swallowed. “Is it... among your people?”

Yusuf shrugged. “It is not often the done thing among my people either. But it is done,” he said with a wink. “With great pleasure.”

“Well,” Niccolò laughed breathily, shaking his head. “Since you have abducted me, I would have little choice in the matter of your pleasures.”

“Oh, I would give you choice,” Yusuf purred, wagging a finger. “You’d marvel at the number of choices there are. In fact, men east of here have written entire books about the number of choices there are.”

“You are incorrigible.” Despite his words, Niccolò couldn’t hold back the smile spreading over his lips. “May I tell you something?”

Yusuf raised a brow. “Do you trust me not to repeat it to your people should they capture me again and torture the information out of me?”

“I trust them not to believe you if it came to that,” Niccolò replied, mimicking his expression. With that sly smile of his, Yusuf nodded and gestured for Niccolò to go on with his confession.

Niccolò sucked in a deep breath and let it out. He’d never talked about such things, but Yusuf was the first man he’d ever met who made him feel as if he could, the first man he’d ever met who was... like him in this way.

“I became a priest to remove temptations from my life,” he admitted. “I think I would have rather been an artist, but my family always told me that that world is full of ungodliness, lust and sin.”

“Funny, my family said the same thing and so I became an artist in my search for such temptations,” Joe chuckled. The way he eyed Niccolò’s profile was with the eye of a painter, his gaze traced over every turn and angle, memorizing him. “Would you remain a priest forever, Niccolò di Genova?”

Niccolò shrugged. “If it is as my God commands it, it is the path I will take.”

“Your God asks so much of you.” Yusuf shuffled closer to his side, close enough that their bodies were fully aligned. Tanned fingers rough from years of swordplay trailed over Niccolò’s neck before gently caressing the jut of his collarbone. “I would ask very little.”

Niccolò looked away, staring into the fire. He wet his lips and shifted his gaze back to the man at his side.

“Beautiful eyes,” Yusuf whispered again before closing the distance between them.

Niccolò’s eyes fell shut and he allowed the kiss. He’d never felt a man’s lips on his, but by God had he dreamt of it. Yusuf’s touch was gentle and practiced. His beard tickled Niccolò’s lips as the kiss that started out soft and chaste deepened to so much more.

Niccolò allowed himself to be drawn into Yusuf’s heated embrace. His lips parted and pleasure surged through him, hot, impossibly hot. The fire burning between them couldn’t hope to rival the sensation.

Niccolò’s arms wrapped around Yusuf’s shoulders as broad hands slid up and down his back. Yusuf trailed his fingers over Niccolò’s spine before gradually urging him down until they were lying upon the rugs that Yusuf had rolled out over the soft sand.

Yusuf’s weight shifted over Niccolò, his thigh between the other man’s legs. They both moaned into each other’s mouths, hips surging, pressing up, moving against each other. Pleasure washed over their bodies like a storm across the mediterranean. When they finally broke for air, their inhales rushed through them like ocean waves.

“I feel we were meant to find each other,” Yusuf murmured hotly against Niccolò’s lips. “Is this destiny?”

Niccolò shook his head. “ _Non lo so._ I don’t know,” he whispered as his hands caressed Yusuf’s cheeks. “But it would take more than an army to wrest you from me now.”

Their lips met again, ravenous this time. Hungry for the unknown pleasures that awaited them.

—

When Saladin’s forces defeated the occupying army in Jerusalem, Yusuf al-Kaysani was nowhere to be seen on the battlefield.

When his fellow Templars were being executed, imprisoned and ransomed, Niccolò di Genova was nowhere to be seen on the chopping block.

The two traveled east, following the silk roads on a great journey to discover the cultures, languages and people of the world. To learn that there was so much more than just war and bloodshed made their hearts swell with hope. When they reached the inevitable end of their path, they stared out over an ocean they could have hardly ever conceived of before, turned to each other, and smiled.

—

FULL SYNCHRONIZATION

—

ANIMUS DATA

DNA Tracking

Subjects XX/XX Session Hours Logged: 3

—

Nicky woke with a gasp. Immediately, he turned his head to Joe. His lover was just waking up. Blinking hard against the fading simulation, Joe glanced over at him as well. A smirk twisted in the corner of his lips.

“ _Santa Maria, madre di Dio._ Mary, mother of god,” Joe murmured, quirking his brow.

Nicky threw his head back and laughed. “ _Non posso crederci._ I can’t believe it,” he tittered.

“What I can’t believe,” Booker cut in from across the room, “is that you two have been incurable romantics for the past thousand years.” He gagged a little to tease, but he couldn’t help but smile.

Joe and Nicky turned towards their friends, both still grinning as well, though a little red in the face.

Andy, Nile, Booker and, hell, even Copley, all had expressions contorted into different states of amusement. Yet, they were all clearly relieved to see Nicky snap out of the Animus so happy and clear headed.

“Don’t worry, we switched off the monitors for a bit there,” Andy said clearly trying to keep the mirth out of her tone. “Welcome back to the present. How’s your head, Nicky?”

Nicky closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “ _Molto chiaro, grazie._ Very clear, thank you,” he said before turning to Joe once more. Despite his concern, he just couldn’t stop smiling. “Are you alright?”

Joe let out a heavy breath. “I would not mind a little of this Bleeding Effect if it’s Niccolò di Genova haunting my dreams.”

“Joe!” Biting back a laugh, Nicky tried his best to look stern. “Are you going to start fantasizing about my ancestor? My ancestor, who, might I remind you, has been dead for over nine hundred years?”

Yusuf shrugged as he sat up. “Why not? A little role play? Could be fun?”

Nicky pursed his lips, actually considering it. “On your birthday. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“ _Eh bien, arrêtez tous les deux_. Okay, stop it you two,” Booker groaned. “Andy’s gonna have to cover Nile’s ears in a minute.”

“Hey!” Nile protested, but she too couldn’t keep the smile off her lips.

Joe got out of the Animus first and walked over to help Nicky up. “S _embra davvero che tu stia meglio._ You really seem to be feeling better,” he said with a grin in place as Nicky sat and all-but hopped out of the Animus with very little aid.

“ _Sì. Sto molto meglio._ Yes. Much better. I’ve never gotten out of a session feeling so…” Nicky trailed off with a deep breath and let it out with a soft laugh. “ _Non lo so._ I don’t know.” He shrugged.

Joe was grinning at him before pulling him into a big bear hug. Nicky laughed giddily as he was wrapped in Joe’s arms and lifted off the ground.

“Alright, you two, settle down,” Andy murmured, though she was rubbing her lips to hide a smirk. She turned back to Copley then with a raised brow.

“Data all checks out,” Copley told them. He turned a monitor their way and pointed to the code he’d selected just before the session ended. “No more memory overlap. Conversions are under one percent, which means any memory either of you are having of your genetic past is just natural recollection from participating in an Animus session.”

Nicky nodded while Joe looked up to the heavens with a heavy sigh of relief. He wrapped an arm around Nicky’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his lover’s neck.

“Thank you, Copley,” Joe said after he pulled away. He’d held a gun to this man’s face a few hours before and yet he had still helped them. “I should apologize...”

“No need,” Copley replied, waving his words away like smoke in the air. “All I ask is that you trust me. I meant what I said. I’m here to help.”

Joe nodded then his eyes were on Andy. “So, where do we go from here, boss?” he asked.

“I suppose back to Egypt,” Andy replied, looking to her team for confirmation. “We still have work to finish.”

The others seemed nervous, but they nodded dutifully.

“Abstergo found us before,” Nicky murmured, voicing the concern they all had. “Who’s to say they won’t find us again.”

“Well,” Copley started slowly. “In that regard, it would be my honour to help keep you off their radar.”

“You can do that?” Nile cut in. “I spent months trying to figure out their monitoring systems so that we could stay off the grid and they still somehow managed to find us.”

Copley let out a half-amused laugh. “No offense to your efforts, Miss Freeman, but I suspect my having worked for the company as their security expert may give me a leg up in that regard.”

“That’s fair,” Nile chuckled.

“You really serious about this, Copley?” Andy murmured. Copley nodded. “Like I told your friend before, I’ve been playing for the wrong side long enough.”

The team looked to each other and Andy gave a sharp nod.

“We’ll be in contact,” Andy said. “For now, make sure Abstergo knows we were never here.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

—

EPILOGUE

—

In the end, they decided not to go back to Egypt right away. Partially because they all needed a break and partially to give Copley some time to create a path for them to get where they needed to be under the radar.

The weather was nice, so the team drove down to Brighton, happy to take in the English seaside in this moment of peace. The late afternoon sun shined through the clouds as they walked along the brilliant white pier stretching out into the ocean.

Nile dragged Booker over to an ice cream shop while Andy walked on ahead of them, shaking her head at their antics. As Booker walked up to fork over his cash, Nile turned back to Joe and Nicky way back behind them. She waved to catch their attention and pointed at the ice cream sign. Laughing a little, Joe waved off the offer while Nicky only smiled and scrunched up his face which Nile took as a no. She turned away with a shrug and clapped at Booker to hurry up and pay the man.

Nicky leaned over the railing, sighing after a nice deep breath of salty sea air. The warmth of Joe’s palm landed on his neck and slowly trailed down between his shoulder blades. Joe came up and leaned against the railing next to him. Nicky glanced over to see his lover silhouetted by the sun, standing with his back to the sea. Soft, dark eyes returned his gaze.

“You still doing okay?” Joe asked, his voice a dulcet tone.

“ _Perché?_ Why?” Nicky hummed softly. “Do I still seem a little… _Distratto_? Zoned-out?”

“ _Sì_. Yes.” Joe chuckled. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the side of Nicky’s head. “It’s been a long day.”

Nicky let out a huffing laugh. “It certainly has,” he uttered, running a hand over his face.

Joe smirked and turned around so they were both facing the water. They stood together in the relaxed silence of each other’s company, watching the waves wash up onto distant shores.

Nicky leaned into Joe’s side and rested his head on his lover’s broad shoulder. “Do you think we will be like Niccolò and Yusuf?” he wondered aloud after a while.

“ _Certo._ Of course. It would take more than an army to wrest you from my arms,” Joe said, mimicking the old Genoese Nicky’s ancestor spoke with in the Animus as best he could.

Nicky nudged Joe with his elbow, even as he smiled. “I’m being serious.”

Joe had the gall to pout. “So was I.”

Nicky side-eyed his lover. “Then you will travel to the ends of the earth with me.”

Joe’s expression shifted then. His dark eyes softened and the sly smile slid from his features. He stared deep into Nicky’s eyes and nodded.

“ _Io non ti lascerò mai._ I will never let you go,” Joe whispered with utter sincerity.

It was true. Joe would always be the warmth at Nicky’s side, the sun to his moon. They leaned into each other before Nicky turned his head. He craned his neck to press a slow, deliberate kiss to Joe’s lips. Their eyes closed and their lips parted.

Joe hungrily took him in, tongue delving deep. Their mouths moved against each other as they both moaned into the kiss. His warm palm dipped between Nicky’s shoulder blades, down his lower back. Wrapping a hand around his waist, Joe pulled him in closer.

With a sharp gasp, Nicky broke away. His hands smoothed up Joe’s chest before he wrapped his lover in a warm embrace. They held each other close for a long while, rocking side to side. When Nicky finally pulled back he did so trailing his lips over Joe’s bearded cheek.

“ _Non mi lascerai._ Don’t let me go.” Nicky breathed against his lips. “ _Prometti?_ Promise?”

Joe pressed a chaste kiss to his smile.

“I promise.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos head back to the hotel <3  
> Your comments change their mind and beg Booker to buy them ice cream too :P


End file.
